The Sound of Fury
by Bo N. Arro
Summary: Everything the young but cynical Lisa knew about her past was a lie. Will Magneto use it against her? Mild violence and language.
1. Prologue

Xmen Marvel

Xmen > me

Therefore Xmen does not me (No copyright infringement intended.)

See what I can do with my Math degree!

Lisa drove down the hill much faster than she had as a child on her bicycle. She almost ran the stop sign. She hardly noticed the red metal octagon behind the flourishing tree branches. She thought to herself that the city probably put the sign up after the bad traffic accident last spring. When she called her on Mother's Day, her aunt had told her about the two children dying in the wreck.

Lisa shook her head. Her red curls bounced and slapped her across the cheeks. No, she didn't remember the sign being there last summer when she came home for Aunt Caroline's funeral.

She shrugged and looked around at the houses on the corner of Dallas and Main streets. Not much had changed in a year. Not anything in the neighborhood, anyway. But everything in her life had changed. And for that she was glad.

A car honked behind her. She jumped, startled, and then pushed on the accelerator while letting out the clutch. She wasn't used to driving a stick shift, and the engine died. She stomped on the clutch and turned the key in the ignition. The driver behind her honked again.

"Kiss off!" she mouthed, and she spun her tires and bolted around the corner. She yanked the steering wheel and stopped by the curb. The car, an early 80's Mustang, passed her as the driver, a teenaged boy, flipped her off. She rolled her eyes and turned off the engine.

She hopped down from the tall Toyota pickup cab. She also wasn't used to being so far off the ground. Her old truck, a 1971 Ford, wasn't a 4X4 like this one, and the Ford wasn't nearly this high. Everything about this new truck was different. But different was what she had needed. She was sick of her life the way it was.

Her father had left when Lisa was a baby. Her mom put her in daycare and went back to school. Lisa felt like she never got to see her mom. But she didn't blame her one bit. She held no grudge. Why would anyone want to be a waitress all her life? And her mom had worked at her Uncle Charlie's café since she was fourteen. Seven years was too long to wait tables.

That's where her mom had met her dad. He picked her up at the café. Mom said she had guys hitting on her all the time while she worked there, and she never paid any of them any mind until Lisa's dad came along. Sometimes Lisa wondered why her mom paid him any mind. It seemed to her that he didn't end up being any better than the rest of them. He ran off with some waitress from the Western Sizzlin'. He seemed to have a thing for waitresses.

One day Lisa decided that her dislike for her father was what had molded her opinion of men. She didn't know why the idea hadn't hit her sooner. She had yet to meet a man that treated a woman right in her way of thinking. She surely didn't want to get messed up in some relationship with someone like her father, like all the men she knew.

That was why she never dated. She didn't expect ever to marry. But those expectations changed one summer. Her life changed one summer. And this day she had come back to the place where the changes began.

She breathed in deeply. Strange as it may seem, the smell of auto exhaust mingled with cut grass pleased her. It was the same scent she smelled last summer, the first thing she remembered about coming here.

She sat down on the curb. She could feel its warmth through her jeans. She leaned back and sunk her fingers into the grass. It too still held the heat of the summer afternoon. She smiled and lifted her face upward.

The sun was setting. She could barely see its bright orange rim over one of the nearby houses. She heard children shouting down the street. She tilted her head and concentrated. They were playing basketball, arguing over the rules. _Just like it was last time_, she thought.

A cricket crawled on top of her wrist. She reached over with her other hand and flicked it off. A year ago she would have smashed it, but not now. She had changed.

She gazed at the sky as it slowly darkened. The evening star appeared, and then others. A street lamp flickered on as her memories surrounded her.

She sat in the very same location, on the curb of the corner of Dallas and Main. But she was a year younger— a year dumber, she thought.

She sat there taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells she wanted to remember about her aunt's neighborhood. She knew she probably would never return. Aunt Caroline was gone now, dead. There was no need for Lisa to ever come back here, though in a way it _was_ her home.

She stood to her feet and climbed into her Ford pick-up truck. She really needed a new one, but she didn't want to put out the money. She hadn't kept a steady job since college. None of them seemed to agree with her the way she thought a job should. So she found something new every six months or so.

Aunt Caroline always told her she'd find her niche some day. But she had no idea what her niche even was, let alone where to look for it. Caroline always said Lisa would find her a man, too. Lord, she hoped not! She didn't want one of those.

She heard the rhythm of footsteps approaching. She looked up to see old Mr. Callahan. He was a strange little man. And his looks reflected that. His head was too big, Lisa thought, much to big for his body. "Can I help you with something?" he asked.

"No, Mister Callahan," she responded. "I was just leaving."

"Who's that?" he shattered. "How'd you know my name?"

"It's Lisa," she said, forcing the sound of her words to get louder as it reached his one good ear. "Lisa Bates."

"Who?"

"Caroline's niece. Lisa."

"You shouldn't be here," he grunted. She just stared back at him. "They know," he added.

"Know what?" She supposed she would have to play one of his little games in order to find out what he was talking about.

"I told them."

"Told who what?" she prodded.

He placed a hand on the mirror of her truck. "I told the neighborhood about your aunt. They know what she was."

"And what exactly was she?"

He looked annoyed. "I knew she was a witch. I saw her handy work. I saw what she did to those two girls who climbed the fence and picked her apples without asking."

Now Lisa was beginning to get annoyed. "And what exactly did she do?"

"Caused that bad wreck last spring and killed 'em both. I know she made that truck run into their car. I know she did it!" He ended his shout with another grunt.

Lisa started her truck. "She did no such thing, Mister Callahan."

"She did so!" His eye twitched as he pointed his finger toward his house. "I sat in my yard and watched her. She stood at her big window. She raised her hand as if she was making it all happen."

"She did not make it happen," Lisa said matter-of-factly. She could not tell him that Caroline was trying to _stop_ it from happening. "Good night, Mister Callahan." She slowly drove toward the freeway.


	2. Adam

I know it's starting a little slow.  Bear with me.  Soon we'll get to the action.

Oh, yeah, X-men is property of Marvel Comics, not me.  No copyright infringement intended.  You know the drill.

She looked down at the gas gauge as she accelerated on the entrance ramp to Interstate 44.  Less than a quarter of a tank, but enough to get her back to the motel.  Though it was in a different place than usual, she'd spend yet another night alone.  She'd been alone since her mom was hit by a drunk driver when Lisa was seventeen—one week before her eighteenth birthday.  _Happy birthday to me.  I sure do miss her, _she thought.

Lisa almost gagged as she rummaged through her suitcase for her pajamas.  Not any different than any other motel, the Route 66 Budget Motor Hotel reeked of cigarettes and mildew.  She never could see how someone could be a smoker.  She tried a few times, thinking that it might calm her nerves.  She probably could have got used to it.  She didn't cough after about the third cigarette.  But smoking could never be something she enjoyed.

After eating a Snickers candy bar, she sat down on the bed to watch a rerun of "Friends."  The commercials were louder than the show, and when too many slogans like "Just do it" and "Make 7-Up yours" had blared through the shallow air in the room, she had had enough.  As Nolan Ryan declared that Ol-Shan could fix the cracks in foundations, Lisa closed her eyes and turned down the volume.  She immediately heard her aunt's reprimand: "Can't you just use a remote control like everyone else?"  And Lisa always answered with "I will start using the remote when _you walk _to the fridge to get a Coke instead of 'floating' it to you."

Chandler and Joey were now having a fight.  The audience laughed, but Lisa did not.  She was never much of a television watcher, and the sitcom was boring instead of its intended humorous.  Everything in the motel was boring: solitaire, magazines, HBO.  Boring.

Though she was extremely tired, she couldn't sleep, so she pulled on jeans and boots and dragged herself out the door.  Surely she could find something to do, even on this side of town.  It was a pretty big city.  A pool hall or bowling alley should be open.  She knew bars would be open, but she wasn't a drinker either.  She didn't care much for the taste of alcohol.  Besides, the men at bars were worse than the ones at Uncle Charlie's café.  So, she decided, she'd just play a few rounds of pool, or maybe poker.  She noticed _Buck's Billiards and Games_ just down the road, so she walked.  She was almost out of gas in her truck.

The smoke in the pool hall was thicker than the fog had been that morning.  Her favorite pool hall back east wasn't like that.  The owner was a real nice guy— didn't allow smoking or drinking.

She coughed.  Maybe this isn't such a good idea, she thought.  She stepped back outside and sat down on the curb beside the sidewalk.  She thought of the near empty pouch of Red Man back in her truck at the motel.  Red Man.  That was her way of relaxing, her only vice.  Before he died, her uncle always made fun of her.  He thought it strange that a girl who hated tobacco _smoke_ could dip.  She blamed it on him.  He's the one who taught her how.  She was only fourteen when he got her hooked.  They would build fortresses out of Coke cans and then see who could knock the other's castle down with a BB gun.  The loser had to buy the winner a pack of chew.  Lisa always won.  She knew chewing wasn't good for her.  One day her teeth would probably turn yellow and fall out.  Or she could get cancer.  But once you start something like that, it's difficult to quit.

She looked upward to see if she could see the stars.  She had stopped in rural Kentucky on the way to Oklahoma, and she could see the stars out there.  She liked it.  But here you could not see the stars.  _Maybe I should move to the country._

She thought of her Red Man again.  _I should buy more, _she thought.  She scanned the street for a convenience store or gas station.  She spotted the star of a Texaco sign.  "Oh, it can wait until the morning," she told herself.  "I've gotta get gas before I go home, anyway."

"What?" a voice behind her asked.

She turned quickly.  She hadn't realized there was anyone around, or she wouldn't have been talking to herself.  A tall figure stood over her.  She couldn't see his face because of the neon lights behind him.  She looked at his feet.  She had a strange way of forming opinions of people.  She determined first impressions from their shoes.

"Snake skin cowboy boots," she said out loud.

"I beg your pardon?"  His words seemed too loud, so she closed her eyes.

"Oh, nothing.  I just noticed your boots."

"They're not really my style," he said.  "I won 'em in a poker match.  So I figured I'd go ahead an' wear 'em."  He paused.  "You need a ride somewhere?"

"No, just hanging out," she mumbled.  "Couldn't sleep."

"Care if I hang with you?" he asked.

She shrugged.  She really didn't want him there, but he had every much right as she did to be there.  "It's a free country," she said.

He squatted down beside her.  She tried not to look at him, but she couldn't help herself.  Despite her dislike of most men, his voice sounded sexy to her, so she just had to look.  He was gazing out into the distance, fishing in his shirt pocket for something.  He had a nice profile, so she didn't stop herself from looking.  Looking at one and wanting one were two different things.

He turned to her and held out a pack of cigarettes.  "Want one?"

She was right.  He was good looking.  From what she could tell, his hair was light brown with golden highlights.  She assumed he spent a lot of time outside.  Sun bleached hair and tan complexion.  But he smoked.  Definitely not a good sign.  But then again, he would think the same thing about her chewing.

_What are you doing?_ Lisa asked herself.  _Why does it matter what he thinks of you?  You've been away from your friends too long.  Looking for a friendly face.  You need to go home and hang with Sheila.  You cannot go and start some kind of relationship, no matter how trivial, with a man._

"Want one?" he asked again.

"Oh, no," she replied.  "No thanks.  I don't smoke."

"Yeah, I shouldn't either," he said.  "But once you start something like this…"  He held up a cigarette.  "It's hard to quit."

She stared at his darkened figure momentarily.  It was so weird to hear a stranger mimic her very own words.

"So do you live around here?" he asked after he flicked his lighter.  "I've never seen you at Buck's before."

She shook her head.  "I don't live in Oklahoma."  She wanted to leave it at that, but he continued his probing.

"Where ya from?"

She sighed.  The smelly motel suddenly didn't seem all that bad.  "East."

"Why ya here?"

"Why does it matter?" she asked half-heartedly.

"Doesn't.  Just trying to be nice.  Play pool?"

She nodded.  She was actually quite good at pool, but she was NOT going back into that pool hall.

"Wanna go inside?  You can play me for my boots."

She smiled.  She didn't mean to, but it was funny.  "I don't like the smoke."

He exhaled a puff and crushed the cigarette butt on the sidewalk.  "Sorry."

"You're fine.  It doesn't bother me out here.  So how do you do that?"

He looked at the butt on the ground.  "Smoke?"

She shook her head.  "No.  How do you walk up to a perfect stranger and just start talking to them?  What is it with guys like you?"

"Guys like me?" he repeated.  "How do you know how I am?"

"You are all the same," she said.  A man wobbled out the pool hall door and stumbled to his car.  He collapsed across the hood.  Lisa nodded toward the drunk.  "Never met anyone different."

"That's a pretty cynical point of view, don't ya think?"  He fished in his pocket for his cigarettes but then dropped his hand back to his side.

"Is it?" she asked.  "Care to prove me wrong?"

"Maybe," he replied.  "What do you mean?"

"How many drinks have you had tonight?" she wondered aloud.

"None," he answered quickly.  "I don't drink."

She raised an eyebrow and chalked him a mental point.  "Married or divorced?"

"Single.  Never married."

Another point.  "Kids?"

"No."  He sounded a little disgusted.

He was three and O.  "Job?"

"Mechanic."

"Uh huh."  She erased a mental point.

"What's wrong with being a mechanic?  It's a good living."

"My dad was a mechanic."  Damn it!  She didn't mean to say that.

"Is that what this is all about?  You hate your dad, and you think every man is like him?  Geeze.  I just came outside for a little fresh air.  To smoke a cigarette.  Didn't know I was going to get the third degree from some tyrant on some anti-man campaign."

She shrugged.  "You talked to me first, not the other way around."

He stood up.  "I thought you needed a ride somewhere.  Thought your car was broke down or somethin'.  I was trying to help.  But I guess that's above guys like me, huh?"

"Sorry," she said.  "Just call 'em like I see 'em.  Should we help the hobo?"  She pointed toward the car.

"No, he'll wake up eventually.  So what's your name, Miss Cynical?"

"I figured you'd be gone with my last remark," she said.  "Most guys are."

He ran his fingers through his hair.  "Most guys like me?"

She breathed in hard and refused to look at him.  "Okay, so maybe I judged too soon."  But what did it matter?  She'd never see him again.  It wasn't like they were friends.  Tomorrow she would go back to South Carolina and forget she ever met him.

"Is that an apology?" he asked.

She shrugged.  "I guess."

"Then I accept it."  He looked at his watch.   He moved his arm closer to the lights.   "It's a little after three.  Are you tired?"

She nodded.  Yes, she was tired, but not sleepy.  Insomnia was not uncommon to her.

"Wanna go get some breakfast?  There's a Waffle House a couple miles away.  They're open twenty-four hours."

She stood to her feet.  "No, I'd better get back to my motel.  I've got a long drive ahead of me tomorrow."

"Going back home?"

She nodded again.

"So where's home?"

He had already asked her that question, and she wouldn't answer the first time.  _Oh, what the hell_, she thought.  "South Carolina.  Greenville, South Carolina."

He rubbed his hands on his jeans.  "Where's your motel?"

She pointed west.

"Route 66?  Want me to drive you?"

"No."

"Care if I walk you?" he asked as he rolled up one sleeve.

She didn't reply and stepped toward the road.  He followed.  Somehow she knew he would.

"I was serious when I asked you how you can just talk to strangers like that," she said.  "Every time I go out, whether alone or with my girlfriends, guys come up and talk to me.  How do you do it?  I don't know you or them from Adam."

He laughed.  "Maybe you do."

"What do you mean?"

"That's my name.  Adam."

She smiled again.  She wished she wouldn't have.  She quickly solemned her face.  "You didn't answer my question."

He kicked at a rock.  "I have no idea why other men talk to you.  I suppose it could have something to do with you being pretty."  He cleared his throat.  "But me, I talk to everyone.  That's just how I am.  I like people."

"Wish I did."  She had never been a people person.  "You should be a used car salesman."

He laughed again.

A long lapse of silence lingered.  As they stepped up on the curb in front of the motel, he said, "You never did tell me your name."

"Lisa."

"And does Lisa have a last name?"

"Bates."

She could tell he was smiling, and she knew what was coming next.  "Any relation to Norman?"

"Yes, Mother."

With a chuckle, he said. "You're pretty funny."

"Well, yeah, what can I say?"

"Say you'll go eat breakfast with me in the morning before you leave town."

She couldn't hide her surprise.  "I don't get you."  She shook her head.  "I try to run you off, and you stick around anyway.  Now you are asking me to breakfast?  Maybe I wasn't wrong in the first place.  Maybe you are just like every other guy I've ever met."

"Or maybe," he added, "Maybe I'd like more company at the Waffle House than a couple fat hairy truck drivers and a toothless waitress."

Now it was her turn to smile.  "Fine," she replied.  "Breakfast would be nice."  Eggs and bacon sounded so much better than a Snickers or a Three Musketeers anyway.

"What time are ya planning on headin' out?"

"Oh, I don't know.  Eight.  Nine."  She knew she'd be up earlier than that.  She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep.

"Well, then."  He ran his fingers through his hair again.  "How 'bout I stop by here about eight thirty."

"Okay.  Here's my room."

"One-Oh-Six.  I'll remember that."

She closed the door behind her.  "That was weird," she said out loud.  "I'll be glad to get back east and get back to normal.  Whatever normal is."


	3. Something Wrong

Lisa did fairly well in the sleep area that night.  Two hours.  She had thought she wouldn't sleep at all.  Too many things running through her mind.  Aunt Caroline's death and funeral, her trip, Uncle Charlie's sudden heart attack. She even thought about her father.  She wondered where he was and if he even cared that she existed.  And then there was her new acquaintance, Adam.  She just couldn't figure him out.  She fell asleep in the midst of her thinking.  It was somewhere around four o'clock.  And she woke up a few minutes past six.

After her shower, she blow-dried her hair and debated what to do with it.  She usually just picked it and sprayed it with gel.  But she had worn it up for Aunt Caroline's funeral, and she liked it.  So she pulled clips and pins from her suitcase.

When the last of her red trusses were securely pinned atop her head, Lisa examined herself in the mirror.  The hair-do was a little formal for jeans, but oh well.  She normally didn't wear make-up, but she brushed on some blush and eye shadow, and dabbed on some powder to cover her freckles.  Her clothes were a little wrinkled from their days in the suitcase, but she had no way to iron them.  And they hung strangely on her slim body, she thought.

She had been slightly heavy growing up, but when she moved out on her own, she lost the extra pounds.  This was mostly due to having no money to buy her favorite snacks.  And sometimes dinner only existed of a candy bar or a rice cake.  The fact of the matter was, she actually liked herself plump.  _At least I didn't look anorexic back then,_ she mused to herself.

She had her bags in her truck by a quarter 'til eight.  She wondered what to do with herself for the next half an hour.  _I should go fill up my truck_, she thought.

She stuck the last of the chewing tobacco in her cheek and drove the few blocks to the Texaco.  After she paid for the gas, to her dismay, her truck wouldn't start.  She kicked a tire, spat on the ground, and looked at her watch.  8:05.  She went back inside and told the cashier what the problem was.  She told him she would be back in a little while.  He said "Okay."

She walked back to the motel and checked out.  As she stepped outside, she saw Adam drive up.  Her heart skipped a beat.  But not at the sight of Adam.  It was his car.  A 1967 Corvette Roadster Convertible.  Bright red.  Wow!

"Nice wheels," she said after he climbed out.

"You like her?" he asked.  "She's my baby."

"Like her?" she mimicked.  "I love old cars.  Especially Vettes.  What she got, like a 427, 400 horse tri-power?"

"I see you know your cars."  He seemed surprised.

"Know them, yes," she said.  "Fix them, no."  She pointed toward the Texaco.  "In fact, my truck's broken down over there."

He turned that direction, and she spat on the ground.  "Oh, I see how you are," he said.  "Last night I was scum because I was a mechanic, but now that you need my services, it's not so bad."

"Okay, fine," she replied.  "I'll call a tow truck and have them take it to a shop."

He slipped his hand in his back pocket and chuckled.  "Joking.  I was just joking.  I would love to look at your truck."

While he fiddled under the hood, she went around to the back of the truck and spit out her chew.  He hadn't said anything about it, so she guessed he hadn't noticed.  And she wanted to keep it that way.

"Be right back," she said.  She had forgotten that morning to get a new pouch of Red Man when she got gas.  She went in and got it, and on the way out the door, she stuffed it in her shirt pocket the best she could.

"Figure it out?" she asked Adam.

"Yep."  He wiped his hand on a paper towel and closed the hood.  "Looks like you've got two problems here.  The starter is shot—that's why it won't start.  And the water pump has a crack in it.  I wouldn't recommend drying it all the way back to South Carolina without getting it fixed.  I'll call my uncle and have him come get it.  We'll go eat and then go back to the shop.  I'll call around and find you the parts.  I'll have you out of here and on the road by afternoon."

She nodded once.  "Sounds like a plan."  She hoped his shop took credit cards.  She was almost out of cash.  And she hoped she had enough available on her Visa.  She was nearing the limit.

"Coffee, black," Lisa responded to the waitress's query.  Then she inspected the menu.

"What's in your pocket," Adam asked.

She pushed the paper pouch down as far as it would go.  "Nothing."

"Aren't ya gonna share?"

She looked at him evenly.  Was he serious?

"I've got a sweet tooth," he said.  "What kind is it?  Cherry sours?  Lemon drops?"

She was confused for a minute.  And then she smiled.  He thought it was candy.  "Um, neither," she finally said.  "It's not candy."

He straightened his back to sit up higher to try to look in her pocket.  She clapped her hand over it.

"Come on, what is it?" he asked again.

"I don't think you'd want to know," she said.

"What, drugs?" he joked.  "You a coke addict?"

"Maybe."  She made herself say it with a straight face.

He stared at her trying to decide if she was bluffing.  The waitress walked up to take their orders.  Lisa ordered an omelet.  Adam got waffles and bacon.  She forgot about her tobacco.

Adam sipped at his iced tea.  "Could you pass the sugar, please?"

She reached for the sugar, and he reached for the envelope in her pocket.  He had it in his lap, unfolding it before she realized she'd been fooled.

He wrinkled his brow.  "You use this stuff?"

"No," she said evenly.  "It's for my boyfriend back east.  A little memento from Oklahoma."

He stared at her again.

She rolled her eyes.  "Yes, okay.  I use the stuff.  Or more honestly, it uses me.  But I recall something someone once said about tobacco.  Once you start something like that, it's hard to quit."

"How did a nice girl like you get hooked on chewing tobacco?"  He tossed the pouch on the table.  "That's a man's vice."

"A _man_ got me hooked.  A long time ago."

"Your dad?"

"My uncle."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five.  And maybe I'm not a nice girl."

"Oh, I had you figured for about twenty-eight.  And yes, I believe you are a nice girl."  He stirred his tea.  "You never did tell me why you're here—why you're in Oklahoma."

"Funeral.  My aunt's funeral was yesterday.

"I'm sorry."  He sounded sincere.

"Thanks."

The waitress brought their food.  She then returned to refill Lisa's coffee cup.  Lisa hadn't had good coffee in quite a long time.

"Any other family here?" Adam asked between crunchy bites of bacon.

She shook her head.  "No, no family _anywhere_.  Aunt Caroline was it.  Unless you count my dad.  But I have no idea where he is or if he's even still alive."  She stopped.  That was too much information.  She was telling him too much.

"Where did your Aunt Caroline live?"

"The corner of Dallas and Main."

"What are you doing with the house?"

She sighed.  "You sure ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry."  He smiled.

"I gave our lawyer power of attorney.  He's going to settle the estate, sell the house, and mail me a check."

"Oh."  He stuffed a rather large bite of waffle into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  "So what do you do for a livin'?"

She didn't want to answer that question.  She tried to think how to best put her past four years of job-hopping into words.  "I'm a cleaning lady."

"Like at a hotel or something?" he asked.

"Yeah."  It was actually an apartment complex.  But she had worked at a hotel once.

He finished his waffles and gulped down the rest of his tea.  _He sure does eat fast_, Lisa thought.  She wondered if he read her mind.

"Seven years in the Army," he explained.  "Sometimes we only had about ten minutes to eat."

She nodded and took another bite of omelet.  She swallowed.  "How old are you?"

"Thirty."  He fiddled with his pocket.

She nodded again.  "You can smoke if you want to."

He shook his head.  "It bothers you."

"It's okay," she insisted.

He smiled and pulled out his Marlboros.  "You're not as bad as you seem," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your bark is worse than your bite," he added.

"How would you know?" she asked.   "I've not bitten you."

He laughed.

"I'm ready when you are," she said as he lit his cigarette.

"He pulled out his wallet.  "Uh…  Can you catch the ticket?" he asked.  I don't have any money on me."

_I knew he was just like every other man_, she thought.  _Nothing like inviting a girl out and then making her pay for it._  She thumbed through her decreasing stack of bills.  When she looked up, Adam was at the register paying.

As Lisa stood to her feet, she was crippled by, well, she wasn't sure.  She thought at first that it some kind of noise, perhaps a dog whistle.  Her sensitive ears always betrayed her.  She sat back down and closed her eyes.  But as hard as she tried, no matter how deeply she concentrated, she was still immobile.  Something was terribly wrong.

She was used to dealing with pain, dealt with better than anyone she knew.  But never with pain this excruciating.  She opened her eyes and tried to look around.  The pain almost blinded her, but she was able to see that Adam was still at the register.  He didn't seem bothered.  No one else seemed to be bothered.  She bit her lip as the tears rolled down her cheeks.  She fell to her knees, grasping at invisible lifelines on the tiled floor.  Piercing, stabbing, clawing pain seemed to rip her mind from her soul.  She felt her presence within her, but her mind plummeted downward, downward to a never ending firey pit.  The flame licked at her.  Shouts echoed in her ears.

Then, as abruptly as it had started, it stopped.  The pain was gone.  Lisa managed to get to her feet just as Adam realized something was the matter.  She walked straight to the door.  Adam followed her outside.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She didn't answer and walked rapidly to the Vette.

He grabbed for her arm.  "What was wrong with you in there?" he asked again.

Before she could answer, he cringed in pain and fell against his car.

He held his head and moaned.  She knew that he was now experiencing the same stabbing, the same throbbing she had experienced a few minutes prior.


	4. Stranded

When Adam could finally talk again, his first words were blasphemous.  Lisa just let him shout.  She had already adjusted her hearing accordingly.  When he came to his senses, he apologized for his language.  "What the hell was that?"

"I've no idea," Lisa replied.  "But it seems to me it caused some traffic problems."  She pointed to the street.  Vehicles were almost piled on top of each other.  Lisa could hear sirens in the distance.  She knew help was coming.  But Adam was already running toward the street.  Lisa ran after him.

They went from car to car making sure everyone was okay.  When the police and paramedics arrived, the officials forced Adam, Lisa, and other pedestrians to the sidewalk.

Adam turned to Lisa.  "Let's get to my shop an' turn on the TV.  Let's find out what's goin' on."  She nodded in agreement.

Adam put the top down on the Corvette before leaving the parking lot.  "We can take the alley," he said.  "Shouldn't be any wrecks there."

The wind whipping about her was an exhilarating feeling to Lisa.  It had been a long time.  She used to love to ride Uncle Charlie's Harley.  But since her mutation had manifested, she hadn't allowed herself the pleasure.  It had taken her a long time to master the control of the sound waves when they bombarded her ears.  As a younger woman, it was impossible for her to stand in the wind or rain.  The noise was too intense.

"How did you get this car?" she asked to get her mind off of her mutation.

"Found it in a salvage yard," he replied.  "It had been wrecked.  Restored it myself.  Actually, I just finished the body work about a month ago.  This is the first time I've driven it more than around the block since it got its new paint job."

She fingered the air conditioner vent.  "You lucked out," she told him.  "You do know there were only 1553 Vette convertibles made with air conditioners in 1967, don't you?  And there aren't very many of them left.  This is a rare find."

He smiled.  "You amaze me."  He turned the wheel and down shifted.  "Here we are."

She expected his shop to be a broken down garage.  She wasn't sure why.  But this place was beautiful.  "This is your shop?" She asked.

"Well, mine and my uncle Jack's," he said.

"Good business?" she asked.

He waved at a man standing in the doorway.  "That's Jack."

Jack met them at the car.  "Lisa," Adam said, "This is my Uncle Jack.  Jack, this is Lisa."

"Nice to meet you," she said.

Jack nodded.  "You look familiar," he said.  "You're from out of state?"

"Yes," she replied.  "I haven't lived here for almost nine years."

"Did you, uh…"  Adam seemed as if her were choosing his words carefully.  "Did you have a kinda weird experience about ten minutes ago?" he asked his uncle.

"Just had one of my migraines," Jack replied.

"This time it wasn't a migraine," the younger man said.  "Somethin' strange happened.  First it affected Lisa, an' then about five minutes later it grabbed hold of me.  Intense pain.  Horrible.  Seems like it hurt most everybody.  There were wrecks all over the place."

"Well, lets' go an' turn on the boob tube," Jack suggested.  "See if we can git some answers."

The television in the office of the garage was beeping when the trio entered.  Adam turned up the volume.  Lisa immediately closed her eyes and concentrated.  The sound waves got slower, and the beeping got quieter as it entered her ear canals.

…Beep…Beep…Beep…  "This is Oklahoma's News Channel Eight.  We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for this urgent alert."  Jonathan Jannis sat behind the news desk, his necktie loosened, his hair somewhat in a mess.

"Good morning," he said.  "We have just learned that the pain that we all experienced a few moments ago was caused by a machine created by one William Stryker.  His plans were to rid the world of Mutants using some kind of mind control.  When his attempt failed, a powerful mutant known as Magneto reversed the machine and inflicted normal humans with the same pain, hoping to kill _us_.  A group called the 'X-Men' allegedly stopped him.  We will now connect with the national forum to bring you the latest on this near tragedy."

The anchorman's voice was cut off abruptly, was followed by static, and then a picture of a woman standing outside the white house appeared on the screen.

Lisa closed her eyes and raised her hand.  The lips of the woman on the TV moved, but no words came forth.  Lisa didn't want the two men beside her to hear any more.

Adam turned the volume knob.  Nothing.  He turned the set off and then back on.  Still no sound.  He hit it a few times for good measure.  "Damn TV!  We need a new one."

"Well, whatever it was," Jack mumbled, "It's over now.  An' we got more important problems, anyhow."

"What?" Adam asked.

"I got the starter.  It's the same one Ford's used for decades. But the water pump's another story.  Not a salvage in the area has it.  Truck's too old."  Jack turned to Lisa.  "Miss, I hope you don't have to get back home in the next week."

She stared at him, wide-eyed.  "You mean I can't go home today?'

"Nope.  An' not tomorrow or the next day.  You're stranded.  Quickest it'll be is five, six days."  He squinted.  "Are you sure I don't know you?"

She shook her head.  "No, I don't think so."

"Oh," he grunted.  He shrugged.  "I guess you just look like someone I used to know.  Anyway, we won't have your truck part for awhile.  I found it in Ada, but we don't have time to go pick it up.  Got too much to do.  My friend, Bob, is going to bring it up, but not until next Monday."

"Guess you should call your boss," Adam told her.  "They're probably expecting you back sooner."  He threw her his cell phone.


	5. Adam's House

"Got a problem," Lisa told Adam as she handed him a socket.

He looked out from under the Cadillac he was working on.  "What's wrong?"

"I had expected drive today until I got home.  It's about a fifteen hour drive," she explained.  She blushed slightly and lowered her gaze to the ground.  "I don't have enough money to stay at a motel tonight, let alone four or five more days.  I could stay at my aunt's house, but there's no water or gas.  We only left the electric on so the real estate agent could show the house."

"That's not a problem," he said.  "Hand me that roll of paper towels, please."  She complied.  "You can stay at my place," he suggested as he wiped motor oil from his hands.

She frowned.  _I don't think so._

He noticed her look.  "Or I can get ya a hotel room."

"I can't let you pay for five nights in a hotel room.  You barely know me."

"Then you can stay at my place," he said matter-of-factly.

"But I hardly know _you_ either."

"Listen."  He ducked under the car and then stood up next to her.  "I'm not some kind of womanizer that's going to lure you to my house and then take advantage of you.  I'll go sleep at Uncle Jack's if you want me to."

She breathed in deeply.  "No, you don't need to do that.  I'm sure it will be fine."  She paused.  "Thank you."

"You can even have my bed," he said.  "I'll sleep on the couch."

Lisa spent the day playing "gopher" for Adam and Jack.  It was the least she could do.  They had been so nice to her.

No one made mention of the morning's strange happenings again until a man brought his Mazda RX8 in for some bodywork.  He explained everything he knew about the situation to Adam.  Lisa listened from a distance.

"The mutants were hit first," the man said.  "I was in my office working.  My secretary started screaming at the top of her lungs.  That bitch has worked for me for three years, and I never knew what she was.  Needless to say, I threw her out on her ass."

He went on to explain that his car was hit in the parking lot at work.  Adam told him it would take about a week to do the job.  The man nodded and continued, but he lowered his voice.  Lisa turned an ear.  "If you know anybody that you need taken care of, let me know.  Some of us are getting together to, uh, how should I say?  We're going to do a little genetic cleansing in _our_ neighborhood."

Adam ignored the comment.  "I'll give you a call, Mister Jacobs, when your car is ready."

Mr. Jacobs raised his nose in annoyance and superiority.  "Mark my words, Adam, they day will come when you'll change your mind."  He walked to the street and called a taxi on his cell phone.

The drive to Adam's house that evening seemed to last an eternity.  Adam seem to be enveloped in his own thoughts.  And Lisa wasn't sure what to say to him.  He was a smart man.  She knew he had already put two and two together.  She knew he knew she was a mutant.

She decided to break the silence.  "Adam, I…"

"It's okay," he interrupted.  "I know, but I don't care."

So that was that, huh?  He didn't care.  Okay then.  She changed the subject.  "Where do you live?  In the freaking little house on the prairie?"

He laughed.  But it wasn't the same light-hearted laugh from that morning or the night before.  "I live on the other side of this small town," he said.  We'll be there in about another fifteen minutes."

Lisa fought with whips of her hair as they played about her face.  "You drive forty minutes to work every morning?"

He nodded and swerved to miss a pothole.

Her hair tumbled about her shoulders.  She spent the rest of the trip trying to keep herself from eating it.

Lisa didn't know what to expect.  She had figured Adam's shop to be a dilapidated barn, but it proved her wrong.  What would his house be like?  She stared down the gravel driveway, trying to catch the first glimpses of his home.

The sounds of a country summer surrounded them.  Lisa shut out the engine noise and concentrated on the wind rustling the tree branches, on the cicadas humming in the trees, on the grasshoppers buzzing in the grass.  Though her hometown, Greenville, was not a large city, it was filled with city noises.  She never heard the voice of nature, save a cricket or a squirrel. 

A hawk screamed a warning above them.  She peered upward.  She had never seen such a beautiful sight.

"Here we are," Adam announced.

She looked down from the sky to see a well-kept lawn.  About twenty yards from the car the short grass yielded to taller grass, but the line was deliberate, pronounced.  In every direction trees lined the fields of taller vegetation.  Only a small gap toward the west had no trees.

She heard an odd noise.  Clapping?  No, an eerie and rhythmic tinkling.  Shoreline.  Yes, shoreline.  There was a body of water somewhere near.  

She stepped from the Corvette.  Irises lined the walkway to the house.  She could tell they had bloomed recently, but now the flags were brown and wilted.  She knew that soon the leaves and stems would die out too.  She knew irises.  They were her mom's favorite flowers.

The house was surrounded by a wooden deck.  As they mounted the steps, she could see that the west side of the platform protruded out over the edge of a cove of what seemed to be a fairly large lake.  Clapping.  Tinkling.  Adam said something.  Clapping.  Tinkling.  She closed her eyes so that she may hear him.

He was unlocking the door.  "Go on in and make yourself at home," he told her.  "I forgot to get the mail.  I'm gonna walk down to the mailbox.  There's drinks in the fridge."

She nodded, opened her eyes, and entered the cottage.  The rooms inside were well-lit even without turning on the lights.  The evening sunshine poured into the many west windows.

Lisa licked her lips.  She was thirsty after the long, windy drive.  She walked to the kitchen that was joined to the living room.  The kitchen was extremely clean, definitely not what she expected for a bachelor pad.  She opened the refrigerator and peered inside.  Coke, Mt. Dew, something she decided was lemonade, and tea.  When she moved a can of Coke, she noticed another kind of cans.  They were taller than the red and green sodas.  The letters on the cans were in script: C-O-O-R-S.  She rolled her eyes.  So he didn't drink, huh?

She shut the door and popped the top of her soda can.  She heard another strange sound.  Click, click, click.  Then the slightest vibrations met her ears.  Purrrrrrrr…  A cat!  She loved cats.

"Here, kitty, kitty!"  Lisa set her Coke on the counter top.

A small white head appeared around the corner.  "Meow!"

She walked toward it slowly and held out a hand.  The cat stepped to her and rubbed its neck against her arm.  Lisa scooped him up.

"I see you've met Norman," Adam said from the doorway.  "Now I _know_ you are a nice girl.  He's shy and doesn't take well to strangers.  If he likes ya, then you must be all right."

She smiled, but did not reply.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," he continued, "an' get this oil off me.  Then I'll cook us dinner."  He didn't wait for an answer, but instead walked down the darker hall.

Dinner was a grand affair.  Lisa had not eaten this well in months.  As she helped him prepare the steaks and baked potatoes, her stomach growled in anticipation.  She set the small table on the deck as he instructed her to, and then he asked her to get them some drinks.

"What do you want?" she questioned as the light flickered on in the ice box.

"What do I have?" he asked.  "I've forgotten.  Haven't been to the store in over a week."

She named off the contents of the smaller cans and the two pitchers.  "And beer," she added with an accusing tone.

He smiled.  He knew what she was getting at. "Don't get your panties in a wad.  They aren't mine," he assured her.  "Jack spends a lot of time over here fishin' an' what-not.  They're his."

She lowered her gaze to the floor.  She felt like a little kid, so immature.  Why would it matter if he _did_ drink occasionally anyway?  Not everyone is like her father, she reminded herself.  "Sorry," was all she could manage.

"I'll take Mountain Dew," Adam said.

As Lisa took the last bite of strawberry shortcake, Adam asked her, "You might not want to talk about this, but I've been wondering since this morning.  What is your power?  Don't all mutants have some kind of special power?"

She nodded, swallowed, and bit her lip.  Should she share with him?  She had only known him a day.  What would he think of her if he knew?  "All mutants have at least one mutation," she began.  "Some have more."  She stopped and watched a dragon fly flit about them.

"But you don't want to tell me," Adam assumed out loud.

"It's nothing special," she said as she shrugged.  "I'm not dangerous.  I can't shoot a lightning bolts from my eyes or move things with my mind."  She looked at him evenly.  "I have extremely sensitive hearing, and…"  She sighed.  "And I can control sound waves."

Adam let out the breath he had been holding.  He was relieved.  She was right, nothing dangerous.

After dinner they watched a seemingly appropriate science fiction movie.  When it was over, Adam asked Lisa if she was sleepy.  She shook her head.  She was hardly ever sleepy.  And when she was, she couldn't sleep.  Too much noise.

"How long have you lived her?" she asked him.

He hit the 'off' button on the remote control.  "This time only about two months."

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed his left hand over the top of his head.  "I was born here.  I was raised here.  The summer I graduated from high school I enlisted in the Army.  I was stationed in Texas, then Germany, but that was only five months, then Arizona.  I was in Arizona for three years.  I got back home one week after my twenty-fifth birthday.  Went to work for my uncle Jack.  I got bored really quick.  See, I was trained in mechanics, but could do much more than repair an old jalopy that Mrs. Baker only drove to the store once a week.  In Arizona I had heard that there was good money in diesel mechanics.  So I finally applied to a technical school in New York.  It was the best training center for big engines and new technology.  I moved there—was there for eighteen months. The program really lasted two years, but I quit before I got done."  He shrugged.  "Then I came back."

"Why did you leave school?" Lisa asked him.

"Couple of reasons."  He adjusted the pillow behind him on the sofa.  "One's personal…  And I was offered a job."

"What kind of job?"

"Can't really tell you, but it was a part-time freelance type."

She wrinkled her brow.  "So, what?  Was it top secret or something?"

"You might say that."

"That sounds exciting."  Lisa stood up.  "You want another soda?"  He said "no," and so she asked another question as she carried her empty pop can to the kitchen.  "But you didn't take the job?"

His eyes followed her across the room.  "No, I took it.  I had to."

"Why?"

"Let's just say it wouldn't have been good for my health if I hadn't."

She sat back down on the sofa.  "What do you mean?  Was it like with the mafia or something?"

"Sorta.  But I'm tellin' you way too much.  I'm not supposed to be telling you any of this."

"Oh, come on.  Nobody will know.  I certainly won't tell anyone."

He breathed in deeply.

"So are you good at the job?" she asked.

He shook his head.  "Not really.  I completely failed my first assignment.  My boss was really mad.  But I talked him into givin' me another one in order to redeem myself.  I'm workin' on it now."

"So what happens if you fail this time?"

"I can't say.  But I won't fail.  I'm doin' a really good job."

"That's great!"  Lisa changed the subject.  "Got any cards?  I want to play some poker or something.  Play ya for your boots."

Adam grinned half-heartedly and slouched in his seat.


	6. Introductions

The country sounds were not as loud as the city, but they were still omnipresent.  A coyote howled; an owl screeched; a mouse scurried across the roof.  Once again Lisa could not sleep.

She stood at the window for the longest time, trying to decide what to do.  She was in an unfamiliar place, and there was nowhere to go to amuse her insomnia.  She crept to the living room where Adam was on the sofa. His even breathing told her that he was slumbering.

She watched him, almost envying a normal human.  If she could have anything she wanted, she would ask for sleep.  She didn't know if she would want to be "normal," but she _did_ wish to have normal rest.

Adam mumbled something and then shouted.  "No!  Don't go!"  He startled her.

Was he awake?  No.  _He must be dreaming_, she decided.

"Please, Ororo, I didn't mean to hurt you.  Don't go!"

Ororo?  What a strange name.  Who was Ororo?

Lisa slowly and silently opened the door.  She immediately heard the clapping, the tinkling of the small waves.  It soothed her a bit.

She stepped outside and looked to the sky.  Stars.  Stars as far as she could see.  She lay on her back looking at the stars.  They glittered; they twinkled; one fell from the sky.

Clap… clap… clap…clap… And then strangely enough, sleep claimed her.

"What the hell are you doin' outside?"  Lisa could tell it was Adam's voice, but for a moment she was unsure where she was.  She slowly opened her eyes.  The sun had not come up yet, but the sky was light blue.  It was early morning.  She could not believe she had slept more than three hours.

She sat up and looked around for Adam.  She did not see him.  She stood and went inside.  A cool hand touched her arm.  Before she had time to react, the hand tightened its grip and pinned her forearm securely against her back.  "If you move, you will die."

Lisa was confused.  What was happening?  Why was Adam threatening her?  Her arm was suddenly twisted until pain consumed her entire left side.

"Adam, let me go," she gasped.

"Oh, does it hurt?"  His voice was mocking her.

"No, it doesn't hurt."  Indeed she had felt worse.  "What are you doing?  What's going on?"

The hand loosened its grip but only long enough to spin her around.  She expected to see Adam, but this was not he.  She had never seen anything quite like this.

Mystique smiled a mischievous grin and touched Lisa's chin.  "You are prettier than I expected.  You certainly don't take after you father."

The blue woman's voice was piercing in Lisa's ears.  Never had she heard such a voice.  Never had a voice caused her so much pain.  She adjusted as well as she could, but the vibrations still stabbed at her.

"I'm so sorry Adam couldn't be here to drink morning coffee with you," Mystique said.  "Or maybe he drinks morning _beer_!"  She laughed, and Lisa cringed.  Not only did her laugh grind on Lisa's nerves, but the words sliced her very soul.  This strange woman had been listening to her and Adam's conversations!

One last pain shot through Lisa's body…  A warmth ran through her veins…  She fell to the floor.

Drip… drip… drip… Lisa opened her eyes and tried to sit up.  She could not.  She couldn't move at all, in any direction.  She saw nothing above her.  Nothing but darkness.  Drip… drip… drip…  Where was she?  _Oh, God, what's going on?_ she thought.

She heard a rattling in the distance.  It sounded like keys jingling…  And then footsteps.  Someone was coming.  The mental image of the sinister blue woman's face flashed before her in the darkness.  And then the lights came on.

The keys rattled across the room, and someone approached.  Something clicked, and suddenly she felt different.  She strained to move, but the additional force was not needed.  She could move freely now.

"That's it," someone said.  "Come on and sit up."  It was the voice of a young man, but it was not Adam.  She turned to face him, and he added, "I've been sent to get you for breakfast."

Lisa studied him momentarily.  He was a thin man, no, a child really, with sandy brown hair.  _He must not be more than seventeen or eighteen,_ she decided.

"Follow me," he instructed, and she did as he said.

The light was dim, but as far as she could tell, he led her down a narrow corridor.  The air was damp and musty.  A menacing rhythmic dripping countered their steps.  Step. Drip. Step.  Drip.  She cupped her hands over her ears.  She thought she would go insane!

The boy's words broke the mimicking metronome.  "I'm sure you have a million questions," he said.  "But they aren't for me to answer.  Magneto will explain."

Lisa tried to speak, but her throat protested.  It was dry and sore.  She finally mustered a question.  "Who was that woman?"

"Woman?" he asked.  "You must mean Mystique.  She didn't hurt you did she?"

She shook her head.

"Oh, I'm sorry.  I didn't tell you_ my _name.  I'm Pyro.  Welcome to our humble abode."

"What kind of name is Pyro?"

"You don't like it?  Then you can call me John.  It's all the same to me."

"Who's Magneto?"  She wiped at a drop of water that had pelted her on the forehead.

"_I_ am Magneto."  They entered a large chamber, and the sight verified her previous thoughts.  They were in a cave.  A man walked, no, floated toward them.  "Nice of you to join us," he said.  He _sounded_ much more distinguished than he _looked_.  She thought his black suit and purple cape were ridiculous.

She moved her eyes from him and surveyed the room.  There were several other people standing a short distance behind him.  The blue woman, a tall muscular young man, Jack, and Adam.  Adam!  She wanted to run to him, but Pyro stepped in front of her on his way to join the others.

"Isn't this quite the family reunion," Magneto quipped.

"What?  What do you mean?"  She kept her gaze on Adam's emotionless face.

Magneto turned to him.  "You didn't tell her?  I thought you would use it as a ploy.  You did it without her knowing?  You are better than I thought.  Too bad you didn't finish your _first_ mission."

"Adam, what is going on?  Please tell me!"  Never had she been so confused, so scared.

Adam opened his mouth so reply, but Mystique put a finger over his lips.  She grinned and slinked toward Lisa, changing as she walked.  When she reached the cowgirl, Mystique stood with her hands in the back pocket of her jeans, Adam's jeans.  She was an exact duplicate of the mechanic behind her.  "Your precious Adam is your cousin," the disguised Mystique said sarcastically in Adam's voice.  "And, ha ha, that would make his uncle Jack, hmmm, let's see, your father!"  Adam's clone turned around and transformed once again… into Lisa.

"Oh, Daddy!  Daddy, I'm so sorry I've hated you all these years!"  Lisa listened to her own voice as it came from the lips of the shape shifter.  "Please forgive me, Daddy."  Mystique turned blue again and sauntered to Magneto's side.

"Sit," Magneto commanded.  "We shall dine, and I shall explain."


	7. Truth

Lisa refused the food Pyro offered her.  She did not want food.  She wanted answers.  She looked toward Adam several times, but was met with only stares.  Once she thought she saw a flicker of apology in his eyes, but she wasn't certain.

"Now then," Magneto said.  "Pyro, Lance, clear away the dishes while we bring Ms. Bates up to date."  John and the other young man stood and began carrying items away from the table."

"I think you will find my offer appealing," Magneto went on.  "But first, let us start at the beginning.  You are Lisa Bates, daughter of Jonathan Bates and Cynthia Cordell.  Your father left when you were young.  You were raised by your mother and your aunt and uncle.  When you were sixteen, you moved with your mother to South Carolina.  Your mother died in a hit-and-run accident when you were seventeen.  Your Uncle Charles died of a sudden heart attack four years ago, and your Aunt Caroline had a stroke last week.  Does that about sum it up?"

Lisa nodded slowly.  How did he know all this about her?

"Well, minimal segments of that summary are correct.  The majority is wrong, completely false.  You've been living a lie, Lisa."

She wiggled uncomfortably in her seat.

Mystique placed her hand on Magneto's, and he continued.  "Though he did not know who you were until moments ago, your father most definitely is Jonathan Bates."  He motioned toward Jack.  "You know him better as Adam's Uncle Jack.  But your mother was not Cynthia Cordell.  You real mother died when you were born, and her sister, Cyndi, took you in.  She did not allow your father to see you for the simple and ridiculous reason that he was, is, a mutant.  Strangely enough, she _did_ let you associate with a woman _I _knew as Wren.  _You_ knew her as Caroline Daugherty, your aunt.  But Caroline was not really your aunt, simply a woman Cyndi trusted.  A very special woman, however."

Mystique removed her hand from Magneto's.  She stood, turned sharply, and walked toward the corridor, talking as she went.  "Erik, I have some programming to do.  Call for me when you are done with this nonsense."  Her words were bitter.

Magneto smiled.  "She does not like to hear me speak of Wren."

"Jealousy doesn't become you, Mystique," Pyro shouted, and he followed her down the hall.

"Wren was beautiful, vibrant, full of life.  She radiated with energy.  And I loved her.  I had no doubt that she loved me in return, but for a vivacious young woman who attracted every man she encountered, she found it difficult to decide which one she wanted.  She loved me, and she loved my friend, a man named Charles Xavier.  In the end I could not win her.  She chose him, only to leave him a year later.  I tried to convince her to return to me, but she longed to see the world.  Life was too exciting to spend it with a boring intellectual such as I.

"Thirty years later, I had not forgotten her.  And I learned she was a powerful mutant, powers and control few can surpass.  That is where he came in."  Magneto gestured toward Adam.

"He is quite special to me," the man in black continued.  "As special as a normal human can be.  He possesses knowledge in that mind of his that I found quite beneficial.  Military charts and diagrams.  Engineering and mechanics.  An intelligent young fool.  He could have been another Einstein.  I recruited him after a messy break up with his only true love.  She left him brokenhearted, bitter.  Your emotions were in quite an uproar, wouldn't you say, Adam?  Perhaps we could call it a _storm_!"  Magneto laughed as Adam clenched his jaw.  "Ororo didn't trust you.  And with good reason I suppose.  After all, you _did_ end up betraying her: you ended up with me.  But that is ancient history."  He turned back toward Lisa.

"His first assignment was to bring Caroline to me.  But he did not succeed.  She died before he did what he was supposed to.  A tragedy indeed, but not a total loss.  When you went home for the funeral, I was able to learn about you.  You would be as beneficial to me as Wren, perhaps even more so.  So I gave Adam another chance.  And here we are."

Lisa slowly opened her fists that she had been compressing.  "Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

"That is a questions I should be asking you, Lisa.  What do _you _want from _me_?"  Magneto raised a hand a thrust it forward.  A siren blasted through the cavern.  Lisa cringed and clasped her hands over her ears.  She had not been expecting a shrill and deafening alarm.  She found it difficult to concentrate, but slowly adjusted.

"Do you find it hard to sleep at night?" Magneto asked her.

She did not respond.  She knew he already had her answer.

"What about Adam?" he added.  "Were you falling for him?  Too bad he's your cousin.  He is one of the few normal humans who would accept you for what you are.  The others will not.  They will only look at you with hatred and misunderstanding.  _Why? _you ask_.  _You aren't dangerous, right?"  He shook his finger.  "Wrong!  You do not know just how dangerous you really are."  He paused.  "How did your Uncle Charlie die?"

She did not reply.

"How did he die?"

"Heart attack," Lisa mumbled.

Magneto laughed.  "Oh, yes, a heart attack.  How did your Aunt Caroline die?"

"Stroke."

"You are a smart young woman, so answer me this.  What causes heart attacks and strokes?"

"High blood pressure… a blood clot."  She shrugged.  She was an English major in college.  She did not know biology.

"How old were you when you found out you were different from other young girls?"

"Twelve."

"After your mutation manifested you lived with your aunt and uncle for four years.  And you lived with your mother, or really her sister, for five more years before she died."

"What are you getting at?"  Lisa's patience was running thin.

Magneto stood and uplifted both arms.  A metal box zoomed toward him.  He placed in on the rock table in front of Lisa.  It was a cage.  Inside was a small white rat.

Magneto raised one hand again, and the siren that had caused Lisa so much pain a few moments ago sounded once more.  She struggled to adjust, but the clamor only became louder, more intense.  She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut.  Her face crumpled, brow furrowed.  The noise grew.  She bit her lip, concentrated.  And then the alarm ceased.  She slowly opened her eyes and darted a look at Magneto.  He only smiled at her.

"Open the cage," he told her.

She turned toward the metal box.  The rat was cowering in the corner.  She opened the small wire door.  The rat's breathing seemed erratic, unstable.  And then it stopped breathing all together.  The animal was dead.


	8. Understanding

Lisa gasped and held her breath.  Surely the rat wasn't dead.  But if it _was_, how had it died?  She didn't understand.

Magneto closed the door to the cage and forced the box across the room.  He stepped closer to her.  Closer.  Closer.  She turned to face him.  He opened his mouth to speak, and Lisa held up a hand.  His lips moved, but he said nothing.  _Two can play at this game_, she thought.  Adam called her name, but she ignored him.  Magneto closed his mouth and smirked, apparently amused that she was angry.

"Lisa," Adam said again.  "Lisa, don't do this to him."

She held up her other hand and stopped Adam's voice.  Jack and Lance stared at the circus, Jack with his jaw hanging open.  Then, Lisa suddenly fell to the floor.  Mystique slithered to her side.  "Bitch," she said and then removed the tranquilizer dart from Lisa's neck.

Lisa's ears were open long before her eyes.  She listened as two young men spoke to each other.  "She's been here for a day now," Pyro said.  "Are we going to die because of it?"

"No," Adam replied.  "Magneto says it takes years for her mutation to have a deadly effect on a person."

"Then how did the rat die?"

"Magneto developed some kind of liquid, a potion, I guess, that he can inject into a living being, and they die instantly when exposed to her energy.  It increases the effects on them one hundred fold."

"How does she kill them?" Pyro asked.

Adam replied with a reluctant tone.  "Messes with their biorhythms.  Gives them hypertension or somethin'.  I don't know the particulars."

"So she really killed three people?"

"I guess so.  But it's not like she did it on purpose."

Pyro chuckled.  "God, I bet she hates you.  Leading her on like that and then bringing her here."

"I didn't have a choice," Adam responded.  "If I hadn't, we'd both be dead.  I _had _to do what Magneto told me to do."

"I don't do anything anyone tells me to do unless I want to," Pyro bragged.

"Whatever," Adam mumbled.  "You and Lance answer to Magneto's beck and call.  You are just as disposable as the rest of us."

"At least I'm mutant," Pyro almost growled.  "You would have died with the rest of the normal humans two days ago.  Magneto paid you no mind when he used Cerebro to attack them.  Besides…"  He signed.  "I will prove my worth."  He waved his hand in the air.  "I am a god among insects."

A period of silence passed between them.  Lisa could hear the dripping of the cave water again.  She forced it out of her mind with such ferocity that it gave her a headache.  She moved the slightest bit just to see if she could, to see if she was in restraints again.  She was not secured.  She dared not open her eyes.  She didn't want them to know she was awake.  She had so many things to think over first.

She lay there for the longest time, her head throbbing, contemplating her current situation and recent enlightenment.  She wanted to hate Adam but could not.  He was right: if he hadn't complied with Magneto's wishes, he _and she_ may very well be dead.  But he had lied to her.  She saw the look in his eyes when he laughed at her sarcastic remarks.  It was the same look she had seen in the eyes of the only man she had ever loved.  It had been many years since she had seen it, but she recognized it just the same.  She had been certain that Adam loved her.  And now she learns that he is her cousin?  What a cruel joke.  How could he have done this to her?

_You are ridiculous_, she told herself.  _Absolutely ridiculous._

She had no idea where she was, but she knew exactly what she needed to do.  She needed to escape.  She needed to get away and find help, find someone to keep her safe from Magneto.  She had once heard of a school in New York that took in mutants.  She was eight years out of school, but perhaps the founder of the establishment could direct her in the right direction.  What was his name?  It had been almost a decade since she had heard it.  Charles Xavier, that was it.  Charles Xavier?  Wasn't that the name of the man Magneto said Caroline chose over him?

Lisa halted her thoughts in order to listen.  She heard a faint voice, as if it were over a intercom or CB radio.  "Magneto wants us to bring her to the lab," Pyro said.  "He's ready for an experiment on a grander scale."

"But she's not even awake yet," Adam snapped.

"I told him that.  He said to try to wake her up."

Lisa exhaled and lay completely still.  She would refuse to "wake up."  She needed more time to prepare her escape plans.  Adam shook her shoulders.  She made no response.  He lightly slapped at her cheek.  She didn't move.  He leaned close to her and said her name.  She remained motionless.  He walked away.  She wished she could see what he was doing, for the sounds around her gave her no clues.

Suddenly an alarm sounded.  She jumped slightly but did not open her eyes.  The siren grew louder.  She held her breath and did not move.  She mentally reduced the blare of the noise a little, but it ripped at her nerves.  Louder.  Louder.

"Damn it, Lisa!  Wake up!" Adam shouted.  The alarm was now a shrill piercing clamor.

She could not take it any longer.  "Holy crap!  Okay, I'm awake.  Turn that damned thing off!"  She sat up.  "That is getting to be just about annoying.  What is with you people and alarms?  Not to mention tranquilizers!"  She rubbed at her neck.

"I'm really not in the mood," Adam said.

"Like I'm in the mood for a splitting headache!?"

Adam turned around.  "Pyro, I'll take care of her.  "You go cook lunch or somethin'."

When the teen was gone, Adam reached to help Lisa from the bed.  She yanked her arm away.  "I can make it myself," she said and stood up.

"Look, Lisa, I'm sorry.  I know all of this is probably a bit overwhelming, but I did what I had to do."

"Oh, yeah?  Well, screw you!"

He took her arm again and pulled her toward the door.  "C'mon, let's go."

He led her down the corridor once more, through the large room where they had eaten breakfast, and into yet another corridor.  Finally they entered a cavernous opening even larger than the previous one.  It was filled with metal equipment, computers, holographic projections on the wall, beakers and test tubes, and things Lisa had never seen before.  Mystique sat at a desk punching on a keyboard.  Magneto poured a yellow liquid from a bottle into a beaker.  He filled a syringe as Adam led Lisa across the room.

"Sleep well?" Magneto asked.  "I do apologize for Mystique's impatience.  Tolerance has never been one of her strong suits.  Shall we begin?"  
"Begin what?" Lisa wondered aloud.

"Lance has volunteered to help us," Magneto said.  He carried the needle to where Lance was sitting.  "Close your eyes," the older man commanded. The younger man complied.  Magneto slowly pushed the needle into Lance's neck and emptied its contents into his blood stream.  He pulled out the syringe.  "A few moments."

They waited.  Lisa looked around.  What was going on?  Mystique turned a few knobs on one of the computers.

"Now," Magneto began.  He nodded to Lisa. "I want you to listen.  Listen intently.  Mystique is playing some music.  Listen to see if you can hear it."  Lisa heard nothing.  "Try harder," he told her.

She didn't want to try harder.  She didn't want to hear the damned music.  She rolled her eyes.

Mystique walked toward them.  She grabbed Lisa's arm and twisted it.  "Listen carefully. Try harder.  Hear the music."

Lisa shook her head, which resulted in pain shooting up her arm.  "Listen carefully. Try harder.  Hear the music."  The blue woman's voice vibrated in Lisa's head.

Lisa concentrated.  "I don't hear anything!"  But as she spoke, she heard it: almost silent chords of Canon in D.  She strained.  "Hear the music."

A few moments later she was engulfed in the flowing melody.  It filled her head.  Line after line, note after note, Pachabel's masterpiece soothed her.  She closed her eyes and listened.

Lance moaned, and Lisa came back to her senses.  She jerked her head up.  She no longer heard the music.  She turned.  Lance clasped his chest and then his head.  His breathing was sporadic at best.  She stared wide-eyed at him.  She could hear his heart beat.  It was uneven, unsteady, rapid.  She could feel each pulse in her head.  He grabbed at his chest again, and then he went limp.

Magneto approached him.  He placed his fingertips on Lance's neck.  "Well done.  Well done indeed."

Mystique let go of Lisa's arm.

"What's wrong with him," the cowgirl asked quietly.

"Why, he's dead," Magneto replied.  "You killed him."

"Killed him?"  So this was what Adam and Pyro had been talking about earlier.  She killed him.  She killed the rat.  She killed Caroline, Charlie, and her mother.  She killed them.  Tears threatened to sting her eyes.  "How could you do that to him?  How could you let him die?  He's dead!  He's not a rat!  He's a person!"

"He'll be fine," Mystique cackled.  "He _can't_ die.  He's regenerative—immortal."


	9. So Confused

Lisa moped about her barred cave room.  She hurt from head to toe, she assumed a result of the extra effort she had exerted in listening to the music.  At times the pain was so intense she almost cried.  And she seldom cried.

She lay on the bed listening to the sound of the water drips.  What was Magneto going to do with her?  Why had they left her alone all afternoon?  Where was everybody?  Where was Adam?  She had a sudden desire to sock him square in the jaw.

She slowly sat up, ignoring the pain as much as she could.  She placed her feet on the floor and gradually put pressure on them.  She stood, and a wave of dizziness swept over her.  _God it hurts!_  She steadied herself and tottered across the room to the bars.  She yanked.  She pushed.  She pulled and punched.  But there was no moving the metal rods.  She was trapped.  Caged like an animal.  An animal…

She sat down on the floor and yawned.  If only there were a window.  At least then she would have something to look at.  Right now all she could do was glare at the dark moist rock walls.  She rubbed her hips.  No pockets… no Red Man.  She still had on her pajamas.

She heard noise in the distance.  She was unsure, but it sounded like talking.  Yes, it was a voice, a man's voice.  She concentrated on the sound.

"You're her only hope," he said.  "I didn't know who else to call."

A pause.

"I had to.  He would have killed us…"

"But you can save her…"

Silence.

"Okay, thank you."

A sharp _click_ shattered Lisa's concentration.  _Adam._  Yes, she was sure it was Adam's voice.  But to whom was he talking?  Almost silent rapid footsteps echoed in her ears, and she slowly stood to her feet.  She held tightly to the bars to avoid falling backward.

Adam stopped in front of her.  Once again his face was void of emotion, but his posture, his stance suggested urgency.

He leaned forward and whispered.  "I know you hate me, and I don't blame you one bit.  But I wanted to let you know I'm getting you some help."

"Why don't _you_ help me?" she asked rather loudly.  "Get me out of here!"

He placed his finger on her lips.  "Shhhhh.  We can't let them hear us.  I can't help you.  Magneto will kill me… and you too.  But help is on the way."

"Who?  When?"  He words were softer this time.

"I can't say.  I've gotta go.  Just be ready when they get here…"  He darted his eyes from side to side and shuffled back down the hall as quickly as he had come.

Lisa sank back to the floor.  Her stomach rumbled.  She had not eaten anything since Adam's steak dinner.  _Damn him!_

But he was getting her help.  She was so confused.

She had no family to speak of, but then suddenly learned that her father was still alive.  She had hated him for years for abandoning her and her mom, but he really didn't abandon them after all.  She found out that, in addition to her father, she had more family, a cousin, a man she really liked… in the beginning.  This news would have been wonderful under more "normal" circumstances.  But then there was the "abnormal" news.  Her mother wasn't really her mother.  Her real mother died a long time ago.  Her aunt wasn't really her aunt.  And worst of all, she had killed three people she loved.  She had killed the rat.  She had killed the young man named Lance.

She covered her face with her hands.  She couldn't take it.  She wanted to scream


	10. Escape

By the way Magneto talked about him, Lisa had pictured Charles Xavier as a muscle-bound weightlifter or eight feet tall. Why was this rather frail bald-headed man such a threat to someone with powers as strong as Magneto's? To Lisa, Xavier didn't look like he could hurt a fly. She furrowed her brow and tried to push her amazement from her mind.

"Yes, I am cripple." He answered her silent question. "We shall talk later. Right now, please sit down and buckle the safety belt." Xavier's voice echoed in Lisa's mind. She did as instructed.

He smiled at her and then turned toward the front of the plane. "We must hurry. They are coming."

A beautiful dark woman with white hair nodded and flipped a switch on the console in front of her. The slight humming of the engines grew louder. Lisa's gaze moved from the lady to the gentleman in front of her and back toward the glass above the flight panel. The raindrops hit the glass with large radiating splashes. Lisa could hear the drumming of the rain over the quiet jet. She saw the gray sky in front of them and the green slopes in the distance. They were levitating! She gasped. Never had she been on a plane that went straight up upon take off.

The jet lunged forward, and Lisa's heart sank to her stomach. They proceeded forward only a few feet, but then the plane stopped and levitated once again. It quivered slightly from side to side.

"What's wrong?" the pilot asked.

"Magneto," Xavier said.

The young woman pushed and buttons and pulled levers on the flight panel. Lisa strained to look toward the ground below them.

Lisa closed her eyes, and the plane quivered once more. Then it shot straight forward.

"How did we get away?" the dark woman asked.

"Lisa helped us," Xavier smiled. He turned toward Lisa. "Thank you."

Lisa simply nodded. Her head hurt too badly to speak.

Xavier motioned toward the front of the plane. "This is Storm."

Storm smiled toward Lisa. "Welcome aboard."

_What a strange name_, Lisa thought.

"That isn't her real name." Xavier's voice echoed in Lisa's mind. "But she prefers her X-Men name."

_X-Men? _Lisa's eyes grew wide. _X-Men were the ones that saved the mutants from the Cerebro attack the other day. **You** are the X-Men?_

"Yes. How are you feeling?"

_My head hurts, and I'm hungry. Why do you ask me that? You already **know** how I feel, don't you?_

Xavier smiled. "When we arrive home, we will take care of you."

_Where is home?_

"I run a school for gifted children in New York."

School? For gifted children? You mean mutants, don't you? You are from the school I heard about. I have often wondered if you could help me.

"You are a little old for school, don't you think?" Xavier's eyes twinkled.

Lisa smiled slightly. _I don't need school. I just need help._

"Help with what?"

Controlling my power.

"You control your power very well as far as I can tell."

_Well, maybe not controlling my **power**. Maybe it's more like controlling my **temper**._

Xavier chuckled and glanced toward Storm. "You are going to fit in fine."


	11. A Friend

Lisa found Xavier's school amazing. She had never seen such a beautiful building. None of her family or friends could afford a home like this, and she certainly couldn't on her meager housekeeping income. She had grown up in a 2 bedroom 900-square-foot house. Aunt Caroline's house wasn't much bigger. Now Lisa lived in a tiny apartment no bigger than her room at the Route 66 Budget Motor Hotel.

She felt like running from room to room. But instead, she walked slowly, examining every stone tile, every wooden panel, each scrolled rail of every staircase. She listened as her footsteps echoed off the tall brown walls. Lying on a leather sofa, she stared at the ceiling of the rec room so long that she began to feel as if she had vertigo. Her eyes crossed, and the room began to spin.

She heard the faint sound of wheels on hardwood and the almost silent hum of a motor. Though he was far away, she knew Xavier was coming. She smiled. Over the past 24 hours, since her rescue from Magneto's cave, Xavier had become a friend. She somehow felt close to him even though she did not truly know him yet. Like a grandfather she never had, she knew she could trust him. And trust was something she was running short of lately.

She steadied the spinning room and sat up. The sound drew nearer. Eventually Xavier turned in to the rec room from the long hallway. They did not exchange trivial "hellos," for she knew he was coming, and he knew that she knew he was coming. It was if their conversation had begun the minute she heard his wheelchair. It seemed a little late for greetings at this point.

"Do you think it's safe for me to go home?" Lisa asked. She hoped his answer would be "no." She wished to stay here in this beautiful home.

"I don't think you should venture away from the mansion until we are sure that Magneto won't try to kidnap you again. I know him well. He will eventually move on. He will find someone like you, with similar powers, and adapt his plan to fit them. Then you may leave."

"Should we try to stop him?" Lisa did not want anyone else to have to go through what she went through at Magneto's cave.

"We will stop him. But we will wait until his plan escalates and comes to a head."

Lisa frowned.

Xavier explained. "He is very powerful and very determined. And he has many hideouts. We would use our time and resources more productively training—and wait until we know where he is and how to stop him."

"Training?" Lisa wondered.

"The X-Men train daily. And for the time being, you are one of us. So when would you like to begin?"

"Who will be training me?"

Xavier smiled. "So I suppose that means you would like to begin immediately?"

She nodded.

"I will be training you in the beginning. We no longer have anyone else here who is qualified to help you increase your powers."

She stared at him. A sadness seemed to overtake him momentarily. She wished **she** could read **his** mind.

He continued. "I know that you need to exercise great mind control in order to manipulate sound in the way that you do. And I know that you have had great success in the past. You are a very intelligent young lady, Lisa."

Lisa bit her lip. She knew she was smart, but she hated to admit it. It just made her unproductive life seem all the worse. Why would someone so smart be working as a housekeeper?

"Follow me." Xavier turned his wheelchair around and headed toward the hallway once more.


End file.
